


Flight

by Anonymous_Creator



Category: Critical Role (Web Series) RPF
Genre: Fade to Black, Light BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 19:19:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16603976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous_Creator/pseuds/Anonymous_Creator
Summary: The right conversation at the right time offers Taliesin something he's been craving for a very long time.





	Flight

**Author's Note:**

> The first rule of shipping real life humans is -- don't ship the real life humans. Especially don't ship them anywhere they can SEE it. And for the good grace of green apples don't mention it in places outside of this. This is weird. You're here too, welcome to my weird, weirdling. Enjoy it, but let's respect the real life humans and keep it on the down low.
> 
> I also appreciate comments, all that being said. If you're feeling brave.

Taliesin stepped in front of the closet and removed a little luggage key from his wallet. It fit the lock on the hard case luggage tucked into the back, obscured under a rack of t-shirts. Inside he had a small collection of some of his favorite photo shoots with a few folks who knew exactly how many hard copies of those photos existed in the wild between him and the subject. It also included a lovely selection of his more risqué and potentially hazardous toys.

Things that could prick and draw blood and were limited to a single partner. Things that, if not handled with care, could cause undue harm. You simply couldn’t trust the average person to know what a TENS unit was and where not to apply it. He took a few moments to gently set aside a few items until he found the velvet bag at the bottom of the suit case.

With a little sigh he withdrew the bag and sat down on the edge of his bed. A smile tugged at his lips even as his hand shook a little. He ran a nervous finger over the soft, rich velvet before tugging gently at the pull strings.

Into his hand tumbled a simple collar. Hardly his most exotic toy. And yet.

“It’s not very ostentatious,” Matt said with a genuine curiosity and warmth. “I half expected it to be flamingo pink or something.”

Taliesin stroked the black leather with the edge of his thumb. The curled finish of the stitched edge ran along the entire length, broken only by a basic attachment for a small silver ring, and a lockable silver buckle.

Taliesin looked up at Matt. He leaned on the frame of the door, not quite claiming any space in the room. He didn’t look intimidating over there. Just Matt. His friend Matt. His GM. His co business owner.

Matt noticed his gaze and smiled. Matt had a nice smile. Matt had a very long list of nice attributes that had not gone without being noted in the last several years. But this…

Taliesin looked back to the collar in his hand and traced the lines of the silver buckle. He’d been in so many negotiations in so many years. This should have been easy for him.

“Hey,” Matt said, “you doing alright?”

“Yes,” Taliesin said, quickly, before Matt could add something expected like ‘we could talk about this tomorrow, no pressure’.

Taliesin was pretty sure that if they talked about this tomorrow the tomorrow part would never come. And wouldn’t that be the crime of the century.

“Okay.” Matt walked briskly into the room and stood in front of Taliesin. He held out his hands.

Taliesin felt his mouth go dry and his hands shook, hard. It had been so long. So very long since anyone else had taken the lead. Since he’d trusted anyone. He hoped Matt wouldn’t read too much past his idiopathic tremors as he gingerly placed the collar in Matt’s hands.

He should say something. Regardless of the last few hours of conversation over coffee and the remains of bad diner food, he was the more experienced partner. He should at least get the ball--

“I will own you.” Matt said.

A pleasant, electric shiver ran through Taliesin’s spine. It cascaded from his head, raced down his back, and ended in his cock. Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Matt’s voice resonated with confidence and quiet authority. It was intoxicating. The first cup of coffee when you’re five hours past your normal first buzz. The stomach flip when you got your first peck on the cheek as you dropped off the girl of your dreams.

Oh fuck. I want this.

And then it was easy. Because Matthew made it easy. Made it simple. Had the knowledge. Had the confidence. Taliesin Jaffe, experienced Dominant of the last decade of his life, felt a little click in his brain as the worrier in him looked for unassigned variables and for a brief moment, found none.

“Yes,” Taliesin said. He pulled his hair away from his neck and leaned forward. His breath caught in his lungs and he felt that shiver turn into a demonic, consuming burn where the leather touched his neck.

He wanted this release. Wanted to give himself to someone he could trust and respect. It had been so long since he’d had a partner that could turn off his brain and tap into that other aspect.

The collar wrapped around his throat. It was too loose, Taliesin could tell, and he almost said something, but then Matt’s careful fingers slipt between the collar and touched his throat at the pulse. Matt leaned down and looked Taliesin directly in the eyes and gave the collar a little yank towards his face.

“Shush. I know what I’m doing.” Matt adjusted the collar until it was snug. Taliesin felt himself already spiraling around the abyss. He wanted to leap into it. Dear Gods, he wanted to fly.

Matt held him by the little ring on his collar and through that he held every tattered scrap of his soul. With simple, fluid looseness Taliesin’s head followed that ring wherever Matt’s hand led.

“You please me, little one.”

The world narrowed to an awareness of his own pulse and Matthew’s face. The rough curve of his throat covered in light scruff. The eyes that watched him with infinite care and wicked desires. The lips that curved into the words he craved.

“Kneel.”

He dove into that warm, dark, abyss. Layers of his mind stripped away. He felt the call to be something both lesser and greater than himself rise from below and claim him.

He knelt.

They flew.


End file.
